First Love Never Die
by straighthairdelphine
Summary: Delphine returns to San Francisco after four years, and a chance encounter with an old friend leads her back to the girl she once fell in love with - the girl that, still, she can't get out of her head. Based on the song by SoKo.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Clone Club! Hope you enjoyed the season finale as much as I did.**

 **This fic will be much shorter than my others, only four chapters, but I'm planning on this being the first installment in a series, so please comment and favourite if you like this story and want me to continue it.**

 **Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy the first chapter!**

* * *

 _Four years and I still cry sometimes,_  
 _First love never die_

'Delphine?'

A voice calls out my name from behind me.

London accent. Female. Familiar. Takes me back the moment I hear it, and suddenly I'm seventeen again and my best friend is shouting my name from down the street.

I turn around.

'Sarah'.

Her hair is shorter, and still as messy, like you wouldn't be able to drag a hairbrush through it. It blows across her face in the breeze, where the same smokey make-up lines her eyes and grey circles lie beneath them. Black jeans, black leather jacket, old combat boots. Vintage band shirt. Sex Pistols, this time. Same old Sarah.

Four years spent on the other side of the world, and here she is, standing ten feet away from me.

I breathe out in a mixture of relief, at seeing a familiar face, and terror, my stomach dropping like I'm on a rollercoaster as it comes plummeting down the track.

'I thought it was you'. Sarah smiles, but it's nervous, like she's not sure how to act around me.

I don't blame her. We're not friends any more. We don't even know each other.

'So . . . how've you been?'

* * *

I don't know why I agreed to get coffee with Sarah Manning.

She didn't question me out on the street, just asked me if we could talk. It was as if she was too afraid to let me go, as if once I walked away she'd never get me back again. I'd cut her off, like I did last time. I can be notoriously hard to contact when I don't want to be found. Sarah knows that better than anybody.

Sarah never did anything that made me hate her, or not want to be friends with her anymore. It wasn't her fault. It wasn't even her sister's fault, not really. To this day, I'm still trying to find who to pin the blame on. Sometimes it's my parents' fault, for tearing me away when, for the first time in my life, I was truly happy. Sometimes I blame myself, for isolating myself instead of facing up to what was hurting me the most.

I regret agreeing to come here every time Sarah's eyes flicker up and down, watching me so closely, though I know I'm doing to same thing to her. We're searching for familiarity, something to remind us that once we loved the other like a sister. But I couldn't say no to her. I miss her so badly, no matter how much I pretend that I don't, no matter how much I keep lying to myself.

It's not like I was doing anything else anyway. I have nowhere to go, no one to see. Not yet. So I've devoted the past few days to wandering the streets of San Francisco, trying to determine if I still know the place or if I have returned a stranger.

We found an empty booth at Coady's Diner. It's still as run-down and depressing as it was back then, but it's a block away from our old high school, so all the kids we used to know hung out here.

I shift uncomfortably, bare legs against cracked leather, sunlight filtering through grimy windows and slanting across the table, where my hands are wrapped around a mug of black coffee.

'So, how long have you been back in town?' Sarah asks, leaning back into her seat, folding her arms across her chest.

'Only a week', I reply.

'You just visiting?'

'Non, I'm here to stay. I'm starting my Masters degree at Berkeley'.

'Berkeley?' Sarah raises a dark eyebrow. 'Cosima's at Berkeley'.

My mouth dries at her name, my stomach drops. I look down quickly, avoiding Sarah's eyes. 'I thought maybe she would be'.

Berkeley was Cosima's dream too, as much as it was mine. We were going to go there together, work at our undergraduate degrees and our masters, do something amazing. In those last days, it became OUR dream.

But things didn't work out like that. A month after high school graduation, I was on a plane back to France with a broken heart and a story left unfinished.

Because something strange happened, during my short time in San Francisco. Something I never expected.

I fell in love with my best friend, and I was never the same again.

* * *

When I was sixteen, my father's company announced they were transferring him from Paris to San Francisco, and my family moved to California three weeks later. Just Maman, Papa and me. We're a small family; I have no cousins, no uncles and aunts. We're not close with my grandparents on Papa's side, and my grand-mère, my mother's mother and my favourite person in the world, had died the previous year. I'd been attending boarding school for years, but I never fit in there, and I was lonely, with very few friends. So I would be leaving nothing behind in Paris, and the idea of a new start in a new country excited me more than it frightened me.

I was nervous, still, because I would be going into junior year as the new, foreign girl with little knowledge of American culture or the high school experience.

But I was only nervous about how my cluelessness would affect my studies and my dreams of becoming a great scientist. I didn't care if people didn't understand me. I was used to being alone.

My parents bought me a beat up old motorcycle when we arrived in San Francisco. It was a reward of sorts, for being so mature about the move. The truth was that I was indifferent. My parents never noticed that, though. All the focus of our household was placed entirely on my parents' careers. They'd have dragged me to America kicking and screaming even if I didn't want to leave Paris.

I was always grateful for that motorcycle though. Because that was the thing that led me to Sarah, on that first day of school. Or rather, brought Sarah to me. And, through Sarah, Beth, Felix, Alison, Art, Scott and Cosima.

I remember it still. Me, pulling into the parking lot and swinging my leg over the back of the bike to dismount. Sarah, stood leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. She was dressed all in black; oversized black t-shirt, huge tears in her dark jeans with fishnets visible on the skin beneath, heavy combat boots. Hair braided on one side, dark chocolate waves hanging loosely down the other.

 _The brunette girl stubs out her cigarette on the bricks._

 _'Is that your bike? Like, really yours?' she asks, approaching as I take off my helmet. It's smaller, less powerful than a 'real' bike, on account of me being too young to have a full license, but still, she eyes it with awe, as if it's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen._

 _'Yes', I reply nervously._

 _'Mate, that's so cool', she grins at me. 'Hey, I haven't seen you round here before. You new?'_

 _I nod. 'My name is Delphine. I just moved here'._

 _'You're French?' she raises an eyebrow._

 _'Oui', I smirk._

 _'Yeah, your accent's even more obviously un-American than mine', she laughs, turning to walk away. After a few steps, she turns back to me again. 'You coming, or not?'_

 _I nod, and follow her towards the main building._

 _'I'm Sarah, by the way', she introduces herself. 'What year you in?'_

 _'Junior', I reply._

 _'Same as me then. Who d'ya have for homeroom, d'ya know yet?'_

 _'Yes, I have Dr Leekie', I say, remembering the information I was given about my class schedule and my homeroom group._

 _'Okay, cool. Some of our lot have Leekie. Cosima'll look after you'._

 _'Cosima?'_

 _'My sister'._

 _I follow Sarah down the main corridor, taking a right, then a left. Kids hang out around their lockers, chatting excitedly, hugging each other and squealing, catching up with their classmates after a summer apart. Sarah barges carelessly through the crowds. I'm glad I have her to guide me._

 _She stops outside a door labelled 114._

 _'Okay, this is me', she gestures towards the door, a sign it's time for me to find my own way now. 'Leekie's room is down there, take a left at the end of this corridor and it's the first door on the right, number 127. When you get in there, find my sister. Tell her Sarah sent you, and she has to look after you this morning'._

 _I nod gratefully. 'Thank you, Sarah'._

 _'No worries', she smiles, and reaches her hand out for the door handle._

 _'Wait'. A thought has just crossed my mind. 'How will I know which girl is your sister?'_

 _Sarah chuckles, eyes sparkling. 'Easy. Just sit next to the girl who looks exactly like me. Catch you later, Frenchie'._

 _I find Dr Leekie's room easily enough, but finding it wasn't the hardest part. I take a deep breath as I reach for the handle, and open the door slowly, slipping inside and closing it behind me._

 _The room is half full already, and all eyes turn to me, the new girl, as I stand nervously in the doorway. I keep my head low, letting golden waves of hair fall in front of my face, shielding me from curious stares. I scan the room quickly, and it doesn't take long for me to find her._

 _Sarah was right. Her sister is identical to her, but only in the face. This sister has long, dark dreadlocks tied up in a high ponytail and thick black glasses. Her clothes are nothing like Sarah's either. She wears a dark red tank top, the colour of wine, and denim shorts, with worn white converse on feet that swing under the table. She's doodling on a notepad when I approach her._

 _'Are you Cosima?' I ask hesitantly._

 _She looks up at me, wide eyes framed with winged black liner staring out from behind her glasses._

 _'Yeah', she replies, confused._

 _'My name is Delphine', I introduce myself. 'I'm new here this year, and I just met Sarah out in the parking lot. She said I could sit with you?'_

 _Cosima's face breaks into a grin. 'Sure, you can sit here', she gestures to the empty desk next to her._

 _I smile back gratefully and go to sit down._

 _I've noticed the girl's American accent, so different to her sister's British slang. But I don't question it, thinking it would be rude to interrogate her after knowing each other for all of thirty seconds ._

 _'So, you're French?' Cosima asks brightly._

 _'Yes'._

 _'Which city?'_

 _'Paris'._

 _'Wow, dude, that's awesome. I'd love to go to France. I've never even been out of America'._

 _'Well, I have only been here for a month, but I like San Francisco very much'._

 _'Yeah, I like it here too', Cosima agrees, obviously proud of her hometown. She taps her pen against the side of the desk. 'It must be so scary, moving to a new country', she muses. 'But don't worry, we'll take care of you. Art and Scott are in this group, and Sarah and the others are in Ms Cho's. You can hang out with us today, if you want to'._

 _'That's very kind of you, Cosima. Thank you', I smile gratefully._

True to her word, Cosima and Sarah took me under their wings that day. They showed me around campus, introduced me to their group of friends, made sure there was someone to take me to my next class if they had to be somewhere else.

When I got home that night, I just lay on my bed, staring up at the ceiling, retracing my steps throughout the day, desperately trying to make sense of the million different things that were thrown at me, trying to remember everything they'd told me. I was ovewhelmed, but I wasn't afraid. Because that group of people had shown me more kindness and caring in one day than anyone had in years.

Sarah's eyeing me across the table, watching me.

'What are you thinking?' she asks, head tilting to one side.

I look down again. Sarah used to be able to tell what I was thinking. She could read people like a book, it was one of her greatest talents. Guess it wore out on me.

'Nothing', I reply quietly.

Sarah smirks humourlessly. 'You came back, without telling anyone, knowing Cosima would be going to the same school as you. What, did you think you could just avoid her forever?'

'No. Of course not'.

'Then why?'

'Berkeley was my dream too'.

'I know. I just never thought you'd come back. I thought you'd get freaked out at the idea of being around Cosima again'.

'Cosima never meant more to me than my goals', I snap, more harshly than I'd intended.

Sarah holds her hands up in defence. 'Okay, okay. I'm wrong'.

She runs a hand through her hair, head turning to stare out of the window. She looks tired. I wonder why. I don't know anything about her anymore. Her life is as mysterious to me as it was the day I met her, smoking by the wall.

Sarah breaks the silence again, sensing I'm still reluctant to talk.

'I have an idea, but you're probably not gonna like it'.

'Okay', I respond, anticipating her next move. 'What is it?'

She leans her elbows on the table, drumming on the surface with her fingers, nails clicking against it. 'My daughter's turning three on Saturday. We're having a party with the family at Alison's place. Maybe you could come'.

'You have a daughter', I repeat, overwhelmed at the thought. I laugh hunourlessly. 'I really have missed a lot, haven't I?'

Sarah shrugs. 'It's not too late to come back. Everyone would be really happy to see you'.

'Oh, I'm not sure that's such a good idea-'

'If you're worried about seeing Cosima, don't be', she assures me. 'There are no hard feelings, I promise'.

'I don't know, Sarah', I say doubtfully, still wanting to decline the offer but too hesitant to do it

'Just consider it, okay? Please. For me'.

'Okay, okay', I concede. 'Fine. I'll think about it'.

Sarah nods, satisfied. Smug. She leans back again.

Nobody ever wins against Sarah. She'll find a way to guilt-trip me. I'll end up going to that stupid party, even though the idea terrifies me.

After a moment of silence, she looks back to me earnestly.

'She misses you, you know'.

My eyes drop to the floor again.

* * *

I sprinkle a few drops of Chanel No. 5 across my collarbone, drape my silver necklace around my neck, gathering my straightened hair over one shoulder so I can fasten the clasp. It takes me a moment, but when it's done, I let the delicate crescent moon pendant fall to my chest. I run my fingers across the smooth lines of it. Something I do when I'm anxious. Follow the curve of the crescent, then stab my fingertip into the sharp point. It's enough release, the sharp jolt of pain that shoots through me.

I live alone now, something I have never done before. No one to help me fasten my necklace. There was always Maman, or my college roommate Danielle back in Paris. My parents were never around much when we lived in San Francisco, they were always working. But I never spent time in an empty house. Sometimes the group would come over to my place. I had a drum kit in the basement, and Sarah and Felix used to bring their guitars over and we would spend all afternoon playing. They taught me to play British punk, like Siouxsie and the Banshees, Buzzcocks and The Clash.

But most of the time, we'd be at the Sadler house, all eight of us in the basement. That was where Sarah and Cosima slept. They bickered and complained about having to share a bedroom, but there just wasn't enough room in the house for Mrs S and her four foster kids, so they didn't have another choice. But it was big enough; they had a couch and a television down there, and a speaker system so loud the whole house would shake, and Mrs S came banging on the door, yelling at us to turn it down.

Those were the best times, just hanging out in the sisters' basement on a Saturday night, drinking vodka Felix stole from Mrs S, dancing around.

Dancing with Cosima. I loved it when she danced.

I stab my finger on the moon pendant again.

 _Come on. Let's get this party over with._


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for all the positive feedback on the first chapter. Hope you enjoy this one.**

* * *

 _I feel like walking_

 _Do you feel like coming_

 _I feel like talking 'cause_

 _It's been a long time_

It took me a while to find Alison's house.

I don't own a car or a motorcycle yet, having only just arrived in the city, and Alison's suburban neighbourhood was virtually unreachable by public transport. It took three buses to get as close as I could, and I had to walk the rest of the way, frequently getting lost in the labyrinth of white picket fences and manicured front lawns. It was my only choice. I knew Sarah would be too busy preparing for the party to pick me up, and I didn't know anyone else who could take me there.

But I have arrived, finally, and I stand awkwardly in front of a huge brick house with a balcony running along the top floor, a long driveway with a garage off to one side, and a 'happy birthday' banner covered in pink glitter stuck to the fence that lines the porch. I'm clutching a gift for Sarah's daughter, wrapped in silver paper. I bought her a sketchbook with thick creamy pages, and a little art set with poster paints and crayons and pencils. I didn't know what to get, but I figured any child of Sarah's would be the creative type.

The house is impressive, considering Alison is still so young. I can barely afford my tiny one-bedroom apartment downtown, and my high school friend is living in a mansion by comparison. But Alison is married now, to a man with a successful career at a software company in the city. Donnie, his name is. I remember him, vaguely; Alison had begun dating him just before I'd left. I remember he was very sweet to her.

The sun burns against my back. I roll up the sleeves of my pale blue button-up shirt, and start wishing I hadn't worn dark skinny jeans. California was always too hot for someone like me, who grew up under the dismal grey skies of Paris. Why hadn't I remembered that?

I've texted Sarah already, telling her I'm here. I can't go in alone, I need somebody there to protect me from the people I used to love. I can't face them without Sarah by my side.

But someone else appears at the doorway, and steps out onto the porch, into the light where I can see her.

It's Siobhan. Sarah's mother.

She looks me up and down like I'm a stranger, but her light eyes soften when she recognises the woman standing before her. She wasn't expecting me, I can tell. Sarah hasn't told her. I wonder then if she's told any of her family that I'd be here today. I'm frightened by the prospect, and panic seizes me, starts to tighten its vice-like grip around my insides. But only until Siobhan approaches, and I start to relax, feeling the warmth and comfort she radiates, like I always did in her presence.

She joins me in the driveway. Thick brown hair falls past her shoulders, a lighter shade than her daughter's. She wears a light red flannel shirt, tucked into blue jeans, and her lips are painted oxblood red. Her eyes are warm and curious, her lips curving up at the corners in the smallest of smiles, a smirk of disbelief. The woman is even more beautiful with each year she ages.

I smile nervously. 'Oi oi, Mrs S'.

'Oi oi', she responds, looking me up and down, in curiosity rather than scrutinizing. I stand in silence, subject to her unspoken questioning.

Siobhan Sadler was my hero. She was the woman who taught me what family really meant.

She adopted Sarah and Felix when they were seven years old, escaping London and taking them with her to Canada. Sarah had come to Mrs S under shady citcumstances, we knew that much, but we were always too afraid to ask after the truth, though we suspected it had something to do with the separation of the sisters. S knew Sarah was one of four, but no one she talked to about her adopted daughter could give her the answers she was looking for. No one knew where Sarah's sisters were. So S started tracking them down herself.

First, she found Beth. She was eleven and living in a children's home in Ottawa when S brought her home. For Cosima, it was a similar story. After three more years of searching, S found a lead that moved the family from Toronto to San Francisco, where, eventually, they found Cosima and welcomed her into their family.

Six months later, when the girls were fourteen, she found Alison living an hour away in Fairfield. She had been adopted at three months old and grew up with parents that knew nothing of their daughter's biological family. The news that she was a quadruplet was unexpected to say the least. But her parents were eager to help her meet her sisters, should she want to, and after arranging a meeting with Mrs S, the Hendrixes drove down to the Sadler house in San Francisco and all four sisters were finally reunited.

After that, Alison visited almost every weekend. The sisters were together at last, best friends, because Mrs S had brought them together. She had given up her life in London to protect Sarah, she had taken in two more girls and shared her home with four teenagers, none of whom were biologically her own. But they were hers, still, and it was thanks to her caring and selflessness that her children found happiness, and a family like they'd never had before.

That's what I learned from Siobhan Sadler; families aren't connected by blood, they're not bound by their genetic relation to each other. You can find family anywhere. And I found mine, in the residents of the Sadler house and the group of friends who spent most of their days there.

'Well, you're the last person I expected to see', she says, her strong Irish accent unchanged despite all her years spent in North America. 'What are you doing out here?'

'I moved back. For school'.

'No, I mean, what are you doing _here?_ Stood on your own out in the driveway'.

I smirk. That was Mrs S. When I show up unannounced after four years, she doesn't ask to know why. She only knows I'm here.

'Sarah invited me'.

S raises an eyebrow. 'She didn't tell me'.

'I don't know why', I admit.

'You know Sarah', she murmurs, folding her arms. 'Full of surprises'.

I look down, shy, rubbing my arms as if I'm cold, though the heat is suffocating and I can feel beads of sweat collecting on my forehead. I wipe them away with the back of my hand.

Then I feel fingertips on my chin, and S gently lifts my head from the floor, so my eyes can meet hers.

'You don't have to look so afraid, love'.

'I shouldn't have come', I say quietly, shaking my head. 'They don't know me anymore'.

She tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, studying my face, where I never saw any difference in myself. I wonder what she sees.

'You'd be surprised. They never forgot you, you know'.

'And I never forgot them. They meant everything to me, you know that. But . . .'

I trail off, unsure of how to put my thoughts into words.

Mrs S just nods, and smiles knowingly. She understands, without me having to tell.

'It's good to see you, chicken'.

She wraps her arms around me, and I lean into her chest, breathing in the scent of her perfume as she strokes my hair.

Mrs S was our mother hen, keeping all her little chickens together. Not just for the four who lived under her roof, but for Art, Scott, Alison and me as well. Any time we had issues, any time we wanted to get away from our homes or our parents, for whatever reason, the Sadler house welcomed us. When one of us turned up on the doorstep, she would simply stand aside and let us walk in. She never asked questions. She never judged. And she was always ready to listen, if we wanted to talk.

I practically lived at the Sadler house for most of junior year, when we were new to the city and my parents were working every hour God sent. I would choose the couch over my double bed in the big, empty house a few blocks away. That place never really felt like home. And then I went back again for a little while, towards the end of senior year, when I fell out with my parents over Cosima. They weren't happy about me dating her. They said she was a bad influence. Maybe in some ways she was, but with her I was the happiest I'd ever been. That's what I told them. But still, they disapproved.

They insisted that they accepted my bisexuality, that they would treat the situation the same if I was dating a man they considered to be wrong for me. I know the latter was true, because no one was ever good enough for their ingenious daughter, their prized possession. But they treated me differently after they found out I liked women. I could see it in the way they looked at me, like I was someone else, like they didn't recognise me.

They never knew me, though, not really. We were never close. They never tried. And I should never have wasted my time seeking their approval. There was no reward for my efforts.

We moved back to France at the end of senior year, in August. I wanted to stay in San Francisco and study at Berkeley, but my parents were firm. They were taking me with them, and that was the end of it. Papa told me we were moving because of his job. But a part of me always wondered if Cosima was the reason we left. Or at least part of the reason, anyway.

'Do the girls know you're here?' she asks as we draw apart.

I shake my head. 'I don't know'.

She nods, and puts a hand on my back, guiding me towards the house.

'Come on. Everyone's in the backyard. And don't worry, I've got you. Sarah organised this party, and she invited you. Anyone says anything and they'll have to answer to me'.

I smile at her gratefully.

There was only one time I was afraid of Siobhan. Sarah let it slip that Cosima and I were sleeping together, and that was the first S had heard that we were more than friends, though she later admitted she'd suspected something for a while. I was giving Sarah the silent treatment, I was so mad at her, but Felix texted me asking to meet up, so I went over to the Sadler house anyway. I only realised I'd been sold out when I arrived at the door to find Mrs S with a stern look on her face, hand on her hip, eyes hard, and a message on my cell phone from Felix apologising and promising he'd make it up to me.

'What are your intentions with my daughter?' she had asked seriously as we sat at the kitchen table, a cup of tea lying untouched in front of me.

So I told her the truth. I told her I loved Cosima. And that was the first time I ever said it out loud.

Looking back, I suppose I wasn't afraid, that isn't the right way to describe it. I'd always known how fiercely protective Siobahn was when it came to her family. And she knew she would never have to protect Cosima from me. She knew I could be good for her.

It's a shame I never got the chance to prove it.

* * *

The Hendrix house is as perfect and pristine on the inside as it is on the outside. The walls are pale blue and lined with black and white photographs of Alison's wedding day, a bouquet of white roses sits on the table by the stairs. My black boots click against the light oak floorboards as Mrs S leads me through the doorway at the end of the hall, where music becomes louder as we edge closer.

She's there, in the kitchen, dashing around, singing along to the music with all the theatricality of a performer on stage rather than someone loading their dishwasher with empty plates.

'Got someone here to see you, love', Mrs S announces. I hang back, a silhouette lurking in the doorway.

Alison stops singing immediately, as if S has just snapped her out of a trance. She stops loading plates and stands up slowly, looking past S.

And right at me. Her jaw drops.

'Delphine?'

'Hey, Alison'.

She comes hurrying around the kitchen counter until she's standing right in front of me, looking up into my eyes, searching my face. And then she throws her arms around me with such force I stumble backwards. Before I can even hug her back, she's leaning away, studying me again.

'What are you doing here?' she practically shrieks.

'I guess Sarah didn't tell you either', I mutter, my voice sounding even more quiet against hers. I tell her about how I'm living in San Francisco again, and how I ran into Sarah a couple of days ago.

Alison shakes her head. 'That woman let me offer up my house and organise her daughter's party and she couldn't even find a minute to tell me you were back in town! Come on, come on, everyone's out back, they'll be so pleased to see you!'

She links her arm through mine and starts heading for the patio doors at the back of the house, dragging me along with her. I turn back to Mrs S, who holds up her hands and shoots me an apologetic smile.

 _Great_. Now I'm alone with Alison, the worst person I can have in a situation like this.

'I love your hair!' Alison exclaims as we step out of the patio doors. 'Have you dyed it? Is it longer?'

'Non, I just straightened it', I answer distractedly, as my frantic eyes scan the backyard for familiar faces, hoping in some way I won't find any.

But instead, I find them all. Almost all, at least.

Art and Donnie stand at the barbeque, grilling hamburgers and chicken. Felix and Beth are stretched out on sun loungers, eyes hidden behind dark aviators, sipping at piña coladas through neon blue straws. Sarah sits at their feet, next to a little girl with dark blonde curls and a yellow sundress. They open presents together, tossing empty wrapping paper aside onto the growing pile of glittering pink and silver that surrounds them. Scott hovers by the barbeque with two guys I don't recognise and a girl with bleached blonde hair and a hot pink bodycon dress hanging off his arm.

Everyone's here. _Everyone except Cosima._

'Hey, you made it', Sarah jumps up to greet me with a hug as Alison perches on the end of Beth's sun lounger.

'I can't believe you didn't tell me she was going to be here, Sarah!' Alison cries, as if I'm not even here.

'Sorry, Ali, I've been busy, I didn't get a chance to tell you', Sarah replies aplogetically.

' _You've_ been busy? I'm the one who's been organising this party!' Alison fires back.

Beth and Felix continue idly sipping at their cocktails, giving no impression that they intend to intervene. It's obvious to anyone that they're used to this.

Alison glares at them. 'And I suppose she had the time to tell you two?'

'Well, yeah! I live with her!' Felix exclaims.

'And I just happened to be there when she was talking about it', Beth clarifies.

It's strange, to see them again, together, even just the three of them. The sisters who are so different in every way except for their identical faces. A product of their nurture, not of their nature. Women who's lives before meeting each other had shaped them into women with different styles, different sexualities, different passions and interests. So completely different. They always fascinated me, from the day I met them on that first day of high school.

 _I set my plastic tray down on the table and slide into the seat next to Cosima, with Scott on my other side. I can barely hear myself think; the cafeteria is alive with the constant hum of conversation, laughter, and the shouts of people calling out to their friends from all corners of the room. People seem to know their place, seem to know exactly where their friends will be sitting._

 _I kick my backpack underneath the table and look up to find a girl I don't recognise sitting down opposite me. Another member of the group of friends no doubt._

 _Then she looks up at me, and I almost jump out of my skin. It's another familiar face. Another girl identical to Sarah and Cosima. This sister has her dark hair tied up, and wears little make-up and a simple blue shirt._

 _'They didn't tell you?' she asks, apparently unsurprised by my reaction._

 _I look at Cosima for an explanation, but she just laughs at the shock on my face._

 _'I know, right?' she chuckles, and guesses my next question. 'How many of us are there?'_

 _'The answer is four', the girl opposite me says, stabbing at a chicken nugget with her fork._

 _'There's four of you?' I gasp._

 _'Yep', Cosima answers. 'Our sister, Alison doesn't go to this school though'._

 _'Why not?' I ask before I can stop myself. I don't want to pry, but my curiosity is getting the better of me._

 _'She doesn't live here. It's a long story, I'll explain later'._

 _'I'm Beth, by the way', the third sister introduces herself. 'And you're the new girl Sarah was talking about. Frenchie'._

 _'That's me', I laugh. 'I'm Delphine'._

 _At the end of the week, on Friday night, the sisters invite me to their house with everyone else, and there I meet Alison for the first time. Another sister, another girl who is completely unique. She wears her hair half up, half down, and she has bangs. Her clothes are pink and floral, and she sits up straight while the others lounge around on Sarah's bed. She is nothing like her sisters._

 _They're talking about some film I've never heard of, and Alison notices my confusion._

 _'You've never heard of_ Mean Girls _?' she asks in horror._

 _I shake my head._

 _'Okay, we're watching it right now', she says brightly, and Scott, Art and Sarah groan._

 _'Again?' Art complains._

 _'Yeah, we need to teach Delphine about American high school', Felix laughs._

 _So they show me the film, and the whole idea of 'queen bees' and cliques worries me very much until the end of the film, when they assure me that our high school isn't like that._

 _'Most people are pretty cool', Scott tells me._

 _Alison joins in. 'We have our groups, we know where we sit at lunch, but we have friends outside of that. And no one makes fun of Scott because he's a nerd. No one is mean to Felix and Cosima because they're gay'._

 _'Alison!' Cosima gasps, eyes widening in fright._

 _'What?' Alison protests, clueless._

 _The conversation moves swiftly on, as if nothing had happened. But not before Sarah exchanges a glance with Cosima, who smiles simply back, as if to prove she's unfazed by Alison's well-intended but ill-thought-out revelation._

 _'I mean, we're not exactly the most popular kids, but we get along with everyone', Beth continues._

 _'Yeah, everyone except Rachel Duncan', Sarah grimaces._

 _'Who is she?' I ask._

 _'A total bitch, that's who'._

 _'She's Sarah's sworn enemy', Scott explains._

 _'We don't even remember why, they've just been fighting since middle school', Art says._

 _They keep talking, but Cosima, curled up on the bed, hugging her knees to her chest and resting her chin on top of them, has grown quiet. Shy, suddenly, despite the confidence and carelessness she'd shown since I met her._

 _She didn't know it then, but she had no reason to be ashamed, or embarassed, or awkward around me. But, then she had a right to be careful, I suppose. She didn't know me. I could have been like one of the bullies in the film._

 _Some people are assholes. Some people are like Regina George._

'What are you doing just standing there, Frenchie? Come sit', he pats the empty space at the end of his lounger.

Having been standing awkwardly on the edge of Sarah and Alison's arguing, I'm grateful to have Felix save me.

'How are you, darling?' We greet each other with a kiss on both cheeks when I've sat down. 'God, you look good'.

'Merci', I giggle.

'Oh! I've missed that French accent!' he says dramatically, more talking aloud to himself than to me. 'You're just irresistible'.

'Okay, we get it, you have a thing for Europeans', Beth laughs, rolling her eyes, then adds, 'it's good to see you, Delphine'.

'You too. I'm glad Sarah invited me here', I say politely, though I'm actually starting to believe it's true.

Sarah reaches down to take her daughter's hand, and leads her around the side of Beth's chair, to Felix and me.

'Kira, this is Delphine, Mummy's friend', Sarah tells her. 'Say hi!'

 _Kira._ Such a pretty name.

The little girl looks up at me with big brown eyes. She's so beautiful, so tiny. I still can't believe she's Sarah's. So much has changed in the family in such a short time.

'Hi', she says sweetly, giving a shy smile.

'Enchantée, Kira, it's nice to meet you', I smile back. 'I brought you a present for your birthday, but I left it in the kitchen'.

Her face lights up at the mention of presents. 'Can I open it now, Mummy?' she asks Sarah excitedly.

'Sure, monkey', Sarah says affectionately, ruffling her hair. 'You shouldn't have, Frenchie. Kira, what do you say?'

'Thank you, Delphine', she says happily.

'You're welcome, ma chérie'.

Alison takes Kira by the hand. 'Come on, honey, let's go get that present'.

Kira follows her aunt into the kitchen eagerly, leaving the four of us behind.

'What did you get her?' Sarah asks me.

'A sketchbook with some paints and crayons and things'.

'Oh, God'.

I frown. 'Is that bad?'

'No, she'll love that. But Alison won't'.

I start laughing. 'Why?'

'It's a messy present. Cosima bought her a science kit. Alison's already kicked off this morning after Felix and Kira started doing experiments in her kitchen'.

Felix smirks. 'Yeah, it was very messy, I'll admit, but we were just having fun. Cosima had to leave before she could show us how to use it properly'.

'Where is Cosima?' Beth asks.

'I asked Scott to go pick her up so she wouldn't be late, but he had to go get Krystal', Sarah explains.

'Krystal', I repeat her name. 'Is she his girlfriend?'

'Yep', Beth smirks. 'Match made in heaven, if you can believe it'.

'I'm not sure I can', I giggle.

'Got the shock of my life when he brought her round for tea the first time', Felix remembers.

'How did they meet?' I ask.

'She's a manicurist at the salon, down by our old school. I went there a couple of times, and we just sorta became friends. So I invited her to hang out with us one day, and that's how she met Scott'.

'And the rest is history', Beth laughs.

'Call me Cupid', he says smugly.

'Who are the guys they are with?'

Beth gestures to the man on the left, wearing an old Star Trek shirt. 'That's Hellwizard, he's Scott and Cosima's friend from college'.

'And the other one would be my boyfriend', Felix says.

'You have a boyfriend?' I gasp.

'Well there's no need to sound so surprised about it!' he exclaims, offended. Sarah snorts, and Felix shoots her an icy glare.

'I'm not!' I clarify.

I'm about to explain that I'm only surprised because I didn't know he was seeing anyone. But of course I didn't know. I didn't even know Alison was married, didn't know Sarah had had a baby.

'What's his name?' I amend quickly.

'Colin', he replies, voice filled with pride.

'Did he go to art school?' I ask, remembering that Felix had been offered a place to study art after graduating high school.

'No. He's a pathologist'.

'Oh'.

'And nice try, Delphine, but I never went to art school'.

'You didn't?' I gasp. I feel guilty now, for bringing it up. Trying to fit in had backfired. 'I'm sorry'.

'Don't be', he waves a hand dismissively. 'It was my choice, I decided I was done with school, so I declined the offer. Now I work as a bartender, at Bobby's place, you remember?'

I nod.

'Well, it's hardly living the dream, but I have a laugh, and I still paint. The struggling artist life is for me, I suppose. But I met Colin at the bar, so I'm kinda glad I didn't go to school. It all worked out'.

'Thats good to hear. And what about you, Beth?'

'I joined the police academy. Training to be a detective'.

'Art's there, too', Felix cuts in.

Beth nods. 'We're hoping maybe one day we'll be partners'.

'The best crime fighting duo in northern California', Felix says proudly.

'You're damn right', she quips confidently.

We stop talking as Kira comes rushing outside and begins tugging at her mother's hand.

'What is it, Monkey?' Sarah asks.

'Aunt Cosima's here, come on!' Kira squeals excitedly, pulling Sarah towards the patio doors, the three of us looking on.

And, right on cue, she appears in the doorway.

 _She's here._

The feeling of dread that has loomed over me all day finally begins to settle, and my stomach flips.

She's the same as she always was. Dark dreadlocks that hang half way down her back, thick glasses and winged eyeliner, a bright red skater dress with lace detailing around the hem. Late.

 _Cosima_. The girl I never meant to fall for, but did anyway. The girl I can't seem to get over, no matter how hard I try.

She hugs Sarah first, apologising for her lateness. Sarah tells her not to worry about it. She's smiling brightly, scanning the backyard, finding her family, probably acknowledging that she is the last to arrive.

And then her eyes meet mine.

She freezes, suddenly stuck. Caught in my eyeline, and me caught in hers. Her smile fades slowly. Her eyes are all shock and no warmth, staring at me like she's torn between old familiar memories and these four years she hasn't known me at all.

Like she's seeing a ghost.

'Delphine?'

My heart sinks. She wasn't expecting to see me here either.


	3. Chapter 3

_Long time wondering_

 _What you were doing_

 _Who you were seeing_

I tell her I'm here to stay, that I'm starting my Masters at Berkeley.

She tells me she is too, staying on for her Masters after getting her undergraduate degree there, and that she's living in an apartment in the city with Sarah, Felix and Kira.

It's all just small talk, really. And I'm barely listening, because all I can do is _stare_ at her. I'm drinking all of her in, absorbing every last detail I can find, because I can't believe she's really here. Standing right in front of me, when I'd thought for so long I would never see her again.

It's as if she's used to me being here already. Sarah explained how she'd invited me, and Cosima just accepted it immediately, no questions asked. But it's so like her. She's laid back and open-minded and probably wouldn't be fazed if I'd turned up at Alison's house in a limousine with my new husband, the King of Spain.

And she keeps smiling. In fact, she hasn't stopped smiling since she got here, save for that brief moment the shock of seeing me seemed to snatch it from her face.

She seems happy. Truly happy. And I'm glad.

I thought I wanted her to be miserable, to be broken beyond repair in the way that I was after I had to leave her. I hoped she cared as much, missed me as much as I did her. But those are all selfish thoughts. I'm not sure what I want any more. I just know, right now, I'm happy to see that she's happy.

'You're gonna love Berkeley', she tells me. 'I've had the best time there, I'm so excited to start the new semester. You must be pretty stoked to be back here, huh?'

'Yes, I'm glad I finally have the chance to study in America again. I enjoyed getting my undergraduate degree in Paris, but I guess Berkeley was still on my mind'.

'Yeah, we were pretty obsessed with it back then', she laughs. 'We were talking about Masters degrees and PhDs, and only now we're here we're figuring out how much work it is'.

'The work is worth it though, non?'

'Totally', she agrees. 'Although, out of the group, Scott and I are the only ones still in school'.

'I haven't had chance to speak to Scott yet'.

'You haven't?'

I shake my head.

'Then you haven't met Krystal either?'

'Felix told me they're dating'.

'It's the craziest thing ever, right? They're polar opposites, but honestly, they're so cute together'.

'They look happy'.

'They are. It's been almost two years. They're living together and everything, in Scott's tiny apartment'.

I raise an eyebrow. 'Scott let her move in with him?'

'I know, right? He even threw out some of his sci-fi memorabilia to make room for her all beauty equipment', Cosima laughs.

'No!' I exclaim in disbelief.

She nods, still laughing. 'Come on, let's go!'

I hang back in hesitation as she begins sauntering up to Scott and his girlfriend. Cosima turns around, gesturing for me to to follow, until, reluctantly, I do.

'What's up, Scott', Cosima greets him with a hug, followed by a hug for Krystal, who squeals in excitement when she sees Cosima.

'One of our old friends is back in town', Cosima points behind her to where I nervously walk up to the group.

'Delphine, hi!' Scott exclaims, his face a picture of surprise.

'Hey, Scott', I smile warmly, genuinely happy to see him. He was one of my closest friends back in high school. We were the three nerds, Scott, Cosima and I. Team Science Megaforce. That's what we became known as in the group, and even to some of our teachers and classmates when they heard Beth and Art teasing us.

'I didn't know it was you over there, I only saw you from the back, and your hair is different, I would've come over already!' he rambles excitedly.

'Don't worry about it', I brush it off.

'This is my girlfriend, Krystal', he gestures to the small blonde woman, who's pouting pink lips curve up into a smile as Scott introduces her. 'Krystal, this is Delphine, our friend from high school'.

'Oh yeah, Scott's told me a lot about you', she says. 'The German girl'.

'French', Cosima and I correct in unison.

'It's nice to meet you, Krystal', I nod politely.

'You too', she smiles back. Then she turns to Cosima, a frown forming on her brow. 'Cosima, where's Shay?'

'Who's Shay?' I blurt out the question before I can stop myself. _Nice one, Delphine._

'Cosima's girlfriend', Krystal replies.

 _Cosima's girlfriend_. My heart sinks.

That's what I was afraid of. Those two words have been my biggest fear for four years now. At least, I've feared them in the context in which those words aren't used to describe myself. The prospect has worried me more than I would care to admit to anyone.

I'm pathetic.

'She's not my girlfriend', Cosima clarifies, aiming her explanation at me rather than Krystal. 'It's early days. But things are going pretty well'.

I force a smile. 'That's good', I say, as convincingly as I can.

'Yeah', Cosima responds awkwardly. 'It is good'.

Krystal looks lost. I can see her mouth open, as if she's about to speak, but she snaps it shut again, her lips returning to their usual pouting smile. At least there's someone here who doesn't know the full story of Cosima and I.

'What's she like?' I ask, as if I were genuinely happy to hear about a new woman in Cosima's life. In truth, I'm just nosey and jealous.

'She's sweet', Krystal answers for Cosima, still oblivious. 'She's a healer, like me. Only, she's a spiritual counsellor'.

'A what?'

'It's bullshit', Scott mutters under his breath, shooting me a glance.

I bite my tongue to keep myself from laughing as Cosima punches him in the arm.

'Scott, that's not nice', Cosima snaps, offended. 'Shay's very good at her job'.

'Oh, come on, Cosima, you're a scientist, don't tell me you actually believe in this stuff!'

'I don't know, dude', she shakes her head. 'I think there are some things science can't explain. Sometimes feelings are more than facts'.

Cosima glances at me, just meeting my eyes, before looking away again, shy suddenly.

'What do you mean?' Scott challenges.

From behind me, in the kitchen, one song ends and a familiar tune fills the air as the next one begins, drowning out the sound of Cosima and Scott's arguing. My mouth dries at the sound.

 _'I bet Sarah and Felix told you about this song', Cosima laughs. She sits cross-legged on the floor, rifling through a stack of CDs on the shelf next to Sarah's bed. It's Mrs S' old music, but it mostly belongs to the sisters now._

 _I'm sitting on the edge of Cosima's bed, watching her._

 _'They didn't!' I protest._

 _It's senior year, and by now I have an entire collection of music that her siblings can take credit for. Cosima knows it. But this time, she's wrong._

 _'They like older music, from the seventies and eighties', I explain. 'This is the nineties'._

 _'Yeah, yeah, whatever'._

 _'You don't like it?' I ask, cocking my head to one side._

 _'No. I really like it, actually', she admits eventually._

 _'I knew it', I smile, victorious._

 _I lie back on Cosima's bed, staring at the ceiling, head a little fuzzy from the pot we smoked._

 _MAYBE YOU'RE THE SAME AS ME_  
 _WE'LL SEE THINGS THEY'LL NEVER SEE_

 _I close my eyes, Cosima's patterned quilt soft beneath my fingertips, the scent of her perfume lingering in the air._

 _YOU AND I ARE GONNA LIVE FOREVER_

 _The music fades out and I hear the snap of another disc being placed in the CD player._

 _'So you like English bands, huh?' she observes. 'I have a song for you. And no, Sarah and Felix didn't play it for me. I found it on my own'._

 _I sit up again, and she turns the volume up to the maximum as the guitar kicks in. Luckily the house is empty except for the two of us, or Mrs S would have been banging on the door, shouting at us to turn it down a little. I don't blame her. The whole house seems to shake when the music is this loud._

 _Cosima closes her eyes and rolls her head back, losing herself._

 _SHOW ME HOW YOU DO IT_  
 _AND I PROMISE YOU, I PROMISE THAT_  
 _I'LL RUN AWAY WITH YOU_

 _And when she opens her eyes, she extends her hand to me, a grin spreading across her face._

 _'Dance with me'._

 _'I can't dance', I reply simply._

 _'Everyone can dance. It's whether or not you can do it well. Now, come on'._

 _She takes my hand in hers and pulls me up from the bed, and grabs my other hand, so we face each other. She moves her hips in time to the beat, rolling her head so her dreadlocks swing from side to side. Our joined hands move backwards and forwards, and she let's go of one of them, twirling me under her arm. It takes a few attempts before we get it right, because I'm too tall and keep getting stuck half way through. We can't stop laughing. But I just keep following her, trying to move like her. I never dance, but for some reason, I'll do it for Cosima._

 _STRANGE AS ANGELS_  
 _DANCING IN THE DEEPEST OCEANS_  
 _TWISTING IN THE WATER_  
 _YOU'RE JUST LIKE A DREAM_

 _We're so close now. I stop laughing when I realise I've fallen into her light brown eyes. I can't look away. And she's staring right back at me too, eyes burning, looking at me as though I'm someone she doesn't recognise. Or someone she's seeing differently for the first time._

 _Her hands slide up to my upper arms, like she's holding on to me. And then -_

 _YOU_  
 _SOFT AND ONLY_

 _Her gentle lips on mine. Cautious at first, but deepened as I kiss her back._

 _YOU_  
 _LOST AND LONELY_

 _I wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her closer so our bodies press together. So I'm as close to her as I can possibly be._

 _YOU_  
 _JUST LIKE HEAVEN_

 _Her fingers tangle in my hair._

For the couple of months before that, I'd been so scared of falling in love with one of my best friends, and even more scared of falling in love with a girl. But, in that moment, all my fear melted away. It felt right. It felt like a long time coming. And though I didn't admit it until later that year, I knew for sure what I felt for her.

 _Just Like Heaven._

I look at her in alarm, to find her looking back at me too. I search her face for a sign, anything to tell me what she's thinking, and for a moment, I swear I see a flash of recognition cross her face. But her expression is too hard to read, and I can't be sure.

After that first kiss, I was hooked, both on the song and on Cosima. The two slowly became one, and after I left, I could never listen to it again.

I wonder if she thought the same. Did she listen and think of me, or did it hurt too much? Did she think of me at all?

She remembers, that I'm certain of. But I don't think the music has the same effect on her. I don't think she knows its significance to me, and even if she did, I don't think she could understand.

'Are you okay?' she asks, frowning.

'Im sorry, I just need a minute', I mumble, blinking back the tears that I feel pooling in my eyes, swallowing the lump in my throat. And I leave, through the house, to the sound of my name being called after me.

* * *

I sit on the steps of the front porch, elbows on my knees and resting my head in my hands, trying to gather my thoughts, watching the late afternoon sun reflect off the Range Rover's windscreen in the driveway. It hurts my eyes to look at.

I'm only out here for five minutes before I hear the creak of the deck, and I turn around to see Cosima leaning against the doorframe, eyes squinting in the sunlight behind her glasses.

'Do you wanna be left alone?' she asks cautiously, stepping out further onto the porch.

'No', I sigh. 'I'm sorry I ran out like that'.

'Don't worry about it', she assures me. 'Do you . . . do you still get anxious often?'

'Occassionally', I reply. Cosima knows I struggled with anxiety before, and maybe she blames it for my hasty exit just now. The truth is, I haven't actually suffered a panic attack since boarding school.

She sits down beside me without responding, and we stay in the quiet for a moment, staring straight ahead at the empty street.

'Scott and I were talking about you this week', she tells me.

'Oh yeah?'

'Well, not about you. But you were there, when it happened. We were talking about that time Scott set fire to a stack of Dr Leekie's textbooks in chemistry class, do you remember?'

'Yes!' I laugh, thinking back to the memory from junior year. 'It was the funniest thing'.

'Right?' Cosima laughs too. 'I don't even remember what we were doing in class, I just remember there was a lot of fire and ethanol involved. We weren't supposed to be using ethanol'.

'Leekie got so mad'.

'And half the school had to be evacuated. Scott was so embarassed'.

'I can't believe he got the experiment so wrong'.

'Remember he was trying to impress that Finnish exchange student? I can't remember her name-' she snaps her fingers as if doing so will cause the answer to magically appear in her head.

'Veera Suominen', I respond without hesitation.

'Yeah, that was her!' Cosima exclaims. 'You were always so good with names'.

'I always remember names. The worst thing you can do to someone is to forget their name'.

'Why is that?' she looks at me in confusion.

'Because I know how it feels', I say nonchalantly. 'I told you about my time in boarding school. I didn't have any friends, no one really wanted to know me, so they just didn't bother learning my name. It made me feel invisible. Like I didn't matter. And it's a really shitty feeling. So, if someone gives me their name, I'll be sure to remember it'.

She stares at me, eyes a mixture of surprise and fascination. 'You never told me that'.

'Everybody knows I had no friends in boarding school'.

'No, I mean . . . it doesn't matter'.

I tilt my head to one side, a small smile on my lips. 'What?'

'I don't know . . . you say something totally simple, but you always have these thought-out explanations and philosophies behind them'. She smirks. 'You're a mystery, Delphine'.

'Oh, really?' I challenge.

'You keep a lot of secrets'.

'Not from you', I mutter.

' _Especially_ from me'.

I shake my head, chuckling to myself. 'You're wrong. I was always the most honest with you. There's really not a lot you don't know about me'.

'But there are some things', she protests.

'Like there are some things I don't know about you', I fire back.

'See?' she laughs. 'Secretive'.

It's all light-hearted and joking, but there's a kind of tension simmering beneath our playful words. I can feel it building.

'Not so much secretive', I say defensively. 'Maybe I'm just not very open'.

'You got that right', she mutters.

I blink. 'What is that supposed to mean?'

'Why didn't you call when you got back to town?' she asks, an edge to her voice that's both harsh and vulnerable. 'You didn't even have to call me. But Sarah, or Felix, or Scott. Anyone. Why didn't you tell us?'

I look down at my lap. 'I don't know. I was scared'.

'Wouldn't it have helped, to come back to the city and know you have people you know here, waiting for you?'

'Cosima, seeing you after four years was a far more frightening prospect than coming back to a city full of strangers'.

I look back at her. Her mouth has dropped open slightly, but she snaps it shut when no words come out. She looks taken aback, and I think I see the glint of tears in her eyes.

'Why are you afraid of me?' she whispers.

'Isn't it obvious?'

She looks away. 'I never wanted that to happen. I thought we could be friends, you know?'

'It felt too weird', I explain weakly.

That's the least of it. The truth is that I couldn't bear to be Cosima's friend when it meant I would have to watch her move on with her life, watch her fall in love with other people. I would have to watch all the things she could be without me. It was too hard for me. I had to make a clean break.

I don't tell her this, though.

I continue. 'And I couldn't contact your siblings without finding my way back to you'.

'Then why did you come here?'

'Because I missed you', I admit. 'All of you. When Sarah invited me here, I couldn't say no, even though I wanted to stay away. There's so much between us, Cosima. Don't you feel it?'

A single tear has escaped her eye, and it slides down the side of her nose. She doesn't try to wipe it away, just leaves it to make its path down her face and slip between her parted lips.

'Of course I do', she says, quietly, but convincingly enough for me not to doubt her. Her eyes haven't left mine.

'Well, you don't show it', I say bitterly. 'That was what hurt the most, you know. You, acting like you didn't care'.

'How could you even say that?' she protests, voice louder as anger seeps in. 'I was heartbroken when I found out you had to move away'.

'Then why didn't it feel that way? You made me feel like our relationship didn't even matter'.

And again, she is quiet, the frustration of a moment ago long gone, hurt replacing it.

'We were barely even together, Delphine', she says seriously.

'It meant so much to me, though', I tell her. 'For the longest time, I thought I was going crazy, because I was becoming so obsessed with the idea of being with you, and I was always worrying you didn't feel the same'.

'No, I wanted to be with you, I really did', she assures me, voice becoming thicker with the tears she tries to hold back. 'But I was afraid of you. Everybody told me that you liked guys and I was just your experiment. They said I'd get hurt'.

'Why did you listen to them instead of me?'

'I don't know, you weren't exactly the most trustworthy of people, Delphine', she snaps.

I know instantly what she's referring too. Or rather, who. Mark Rollins, the quarterback. He sat next to me in English class. I thought he wanted to be friends. I'd just started dating Cosima, and the news was spreading through school like wildfire. But, apparently, it hadn't reached him, and soon, it was common knowledge that he wanted more than friendship with me.

'You know those were just rumours, Cosima', I say calmly. 'Nothing ever happened between us'.

'Then why did Aynsley Norris go round the whole school telling everyone she saw you kissing on the bleachers?'

' _He_ kissed _me_! I told you that. You still don't believe me?'

'I felt like such an idiot', she continues harshly, ignoring me. 'One day, you were holding my hand in the corridor, the next everyone's pitying me and telling me you're a cheat'.

'This is ridiculous!' I shout, running a hand through my hair in frustration. 'This has nothing to do with anything'.

Cosima opens her mouth to fire something back, but instead, she shakes her head and lets out a sigh. 'You're right. I'm sorry. I believed you when you said he made the first move. When you said . . . you told him to stay away from you because you were in love with me'.

'I _was_ in love with you', I say earnestly. 'I would never have hurt you'.

'And I loved you, too', she smiles sadly.

'But it wasn't enough'.

'That's not fair', she says defensively. 'We would have been together, if you didn't have to leave. You know that'.

'I fell for you so hard, Cosima. And when you told me you loved me too, it was the best feeling. We were so happy, and then . . . nothing. As soon as you found out I was leaving, you stepped back and acted like nothing had ever happened. Like we were never more than friends'.

She looks away. 'I'm sorry. I handled it really badly'.

'You never kissed me again, after that'.

I'm talking to myself more than Cosima now. For so long I've thought of what I would say to her, if I ever saw her again, rehearsing things over and over in my head. But now, I'm not saying any of it. Words are just pouring out, without me thinking about them, as if she wasn't even listening.

Still, she talks back to me. 'It was so hard, contemplating losing you. And I knew saying goodbye would be so much harder if there were things left unfinished. So I just pretended like we were over already. It was more convenient'. She shakes her head. 'It's stupid, I know. I was stupid'.

'Things would have been unfinished, whether or not you believed it', I shoot back. 'I believed it. I felt like there was so much more to say, stood there telling you I'd miss you. But you acted like you didn't feel the same'.

She sighs. 'The truth is, I wasn't ready to put my heart on the line when I knew it was a risk that wouldn't pay off. We'd been stuck on the line between friends and girlfriends for most of senior year. Yeah, we'd slept together a couple of times, but we always just pretended it was a casual thing and moved on. I was in love with you, for all of that time, but I was still too scared to do anything, until those last two months, around graduation. Then you told me you were moving. I couldn't commit to you when I knew in a few weeks you'd be gone and I wouldn't be able to see you for I don't know how long. I wasn't ready'.

'I know you weren't ready. I know you were afraid of giving yourself to me. But you did. In the end, we had something. You were my girlfriend. And then, suddenly, you weren't'.

'We'd only been dating for two months, being on opposite sides of the world would have killed the relationship in a second. Long distance never works'.

'How could you have known? You never gave me the chance'.

'Delphine-'

'I know, I know', I cut her off with a defeated sigh. 'You're right. We could never have kept it up. We were too far apart'. I look at her in questioning. 'Do you ever think about it, though? Do you ever think about what we could have been, if things had been different?'

'All the time', she admits, eyes still glistening with water. 'And every day I feel guilty about how it ended between us'.

'It wasn't up to us'. I smile sadly. 'Maybe it just wasn't meant to be'.

Felix steps out onto the front porch from the open doorway, holding three mimosas. I wonder how long he's been standing there, listening. But from the look on his face, I guess it's been longer than I would have liked. I cringe internally. I didn't want anyone to hear this. I didn't even want Cosima to hear this. It's too embarrassing, too personal. Too honest.

'Looks like you two could use a drink', he says, sitting down beside us.

He hands a mimosa to each of us, and we remain in silence for a while.


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry this took so long. I've been having technology nightmares in which my laptop broke, then my phone broke, and I lost all my work for this chapter.**  
 **This is the last chapter for this story, and I want to thank everyone for being so kind to me as always. Now I have my laptop back, I'm starting work on more writing, so stick around for that. I may publish a sequel to this story in the future, but I haven't decided yet.**  
 **Thanks again for reading, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter.**

* * *

 _Can you feel the same?_  
 _I will never love again_

My head throbs with pain. It's like someone's knocking a hammer against my forehead repeatedly.

 _Merde._

I open my eyes a little, just enough to let a sliver of glaring sunlight through. I groan at the severity of it. I roll over, and immediately a wave of nausea sweeps through me.

 _God, I feel terrible._

I open my eyes again. Slower, this time. Dark red bedsheets stretch out before me. They're crumpled and messy. Also, they don't belong to me.

 _Merde!_

Panic seizes me. I sit up quickly, ignoring the sharp pain that pierces through my head as I do so.

I'm alone. I'm in a double bed, on the left side. The blinds are drawn haphazardly, and sunlight streams through the cracks. The bedside table is littered with scented candles, magazines and a stack of papers, a half empty glass of water, a necklace with a double helix charm hanging from the end, and a collection of silver rings.

The jewellery is Cosima's.

I'm in Cosima's room. In Cosima's bed. And my clothes are in a crumpled pile on the floor.

 _Merde! Shit! Holy fucking shit!_

My heart starts beating rapidly.

 _How the fuck did I get here?_

I'm panicking now, eyes wide and frantic, darting around the room, searching for any sort of clue as to what happened last night.

 _No, no, no. This can't be happening._

And then it comes back to me, memories slowly emerging through the haze. Felix's mimosas, then more mimosas, and another round after that. Then we did shots of vodka with Felix and Beth. And we drank more after that, I'm sure of it.

So, the four of us got way too drunk for a child's birthday party, that's certain. And somewhere in all this, Cosima and I found ourselves alone on the front porch again. It was growing darker, there was a campfire in the backyard where everyone was sitting, but for some reason we were back out on the porch, and we were talking like nothing was wrong and then, suddenly, I was in her arms and I was kissing her like I'd never kiss anyone again.

I'm not sure what happened after that, but eventually I was sitting cross-legged on the couch in an apartment I'd never seen before, with Cosima's head in my lap and a joint between my fingertips. And that was the end. Well, except for what came after.

 _Ugh_. I cringe at the thought. I've made some stupid decisions in my life but this might be the one to top the list.

So, I'm in Cosima's bed, but she's not here, and my mouth is as dry as the desert. I decide it's useless sitting around here, especially as I'm so clueless as to what's going on. As to why I'm here alone.

I throw on yesterday's clothes and stumble out into the hall. There's two more doors, one to the left and one straight ahead, and the hall stretches out to the right. I can hear music from the other end, loud and harsh, mixed with the clatter of pots and pans. The Sex Pistols. I emerge into the room, squinting in the light that reaches in through the window.

'Sarah?'

'Hey, she's alive', Sarah looks up, smirking. She's frying bacon in a pan, oil spitting and sizzling.

'Hardly', I respond, smiling myself.

'Yeah, that's unsurprising. I can't believe you guys'.

'I'm so sorry if we ruined Kira's birthday', I say, ashamed.

Sarah waves her hand dismissively. 'You didn't. It was pretty funny actually. S wasn't impressed though. I had to leave Kira with her when I saw you and Cosima sneaking off together'.

'Why?'

'We live here, remember? Me and Kira, Cos and Felix'.

'Oh. Right'. I cringe. 'I don't remember getting here'.

'You got a cab', Sarah informs me. 'Couldn't stop you leaving, even though it was a terrible idea. But hey, you're a big girl, you can make your own mistakes'.

'What happened last night, Sarah?'

'I don't know. I didn't get back until a couple of hours after you did. I left Kira with S, Felix had gone back to Colin's. And I came back and the whole place smelt of pot. And I heard some noises I'd rather not have heard coming from Cosima's room'.

I hide my face in my hands. Sarah smirks again.

'I don't know what you were doing all that time I was still at Alison's. Probably just smoking pot. That's what you used to do. I remember'.

Her face turns, almost like she's upset. Her eyes betray the sadness. She taps her finger against the counter awkwardly, nails clicking against the surface.

'Are you mad?' I blurt out.

She pauses, then sighs. 'No. I just don't wanna see Cos get hurt. And you, too. I don't want you to get hurt either'.

'Where did she go? This morning, I mean. Have you seen her?'

She sighs again. 'Yeah, I saw her. I don't know where she went. She needed to get out of here. She just needs time to think'.

I look away.

'Where did I put my bag', I say absentmindedly, to myself more than to Sarah. I spot it, flung over the side of the couch. I go over to retrieve the pack of cigarettes I hid at the bottom.

'Can I smoke in here?' I ask.

'Sure', she replies. 'I thought you quit'.

'Well, I couldn't stay off them', I say, my tone harsh. Sarah raises an eyebrow, but shakes it off, turning back to the cutting board, where she's laying out strips of bacon onto slices of white bread.

'Reminds me of something else', she mutters.

I fold my arms. 'So you are mad'.

'I'm not', she snaps. But then her tone softens, and that look of sadness clouds her eyes again. 'It's just . . . you two are so stupid. After everything you've been through'.

'I shouldn't have gone to the party', I mutter.

'Maybe I shouldn't have invited you. I just thought you two could be friends, you know? I thought everything could go back to the way it used to be'.

'You mean before I fell in love with her'.

'Well, that's when it got complicated. That's when everything changed'.

I smirk. 'You once told me you didn't mind change'.

'I lied', she says shortly. 'I've had so much of it in my life already, I didn't want any more. We had our group of friends. I thought we'd be together forever. And I should have known we would all eventually move on, and we'd have our own lives, but I thought we'd still have each other, even if it was just talking on the phone'.

'I wish it could have been like that', I say wistfully.

'It could have been'.

I shake my head. 'It was too hard to be friends with Cosima. It was still hard, seeing her yesterday. Finding out about Shay'.

'You heard about Shay then'.

I nod.

'You still love her, don't you?' Sarah asks outright.

I pause for a moment, thinking about denying it, but there's no use in that. Not with Sarah.

'I can't stop thinking about her, even after all this time', I tell her sadly. 'I wish I didn't love her, but I do and there's nothing I can do to stop it'.

'So, you just gonna get over it?' she asks, as if it were so simple.

'What other choice do I have', I snap, 'when I'll love her for as long as I live? To die, I guess. Oh wait. I already tried that'. I laugh humourlessly.

Sarah looks stern. 'That's not funny'.

'You know, you're the only one I ever told about that', I continue, ignoring her. 'I didn't even tell Cosima'.

'Why not?' She blurts it out, but she shakes her head quickly afterwards. 'Wait, don't answer that, I don't need to know'.

I take another drag from my cigarette, staring her down.

'That wasn't about Cos', she says dumbly.

'Of course it wasn't about her', I snap. 'I hadn't even met her yet. Nothing in my life was worth living for. She changed all that for me. I was so close to getting everything I'd always dreamed of. Then I had it snatched away from me at the last minute'.

'That wasn't her fault'.

'I know it wasn't, it wasn't anybody's fault. But it didn't happen. And it's the fucking worst feeling in the world. To know that I was within touching distance of happiness. I just thought that, for once, things were going to work out for me'.

'I know it's shite, I know it hurts. But you gotta stop feeling sorry for yourself, Cormier, or I'm gonna start running out of sympathy'.

'And why's that?'

'We've all been hurt, at some point. We've all had that moment where we thought we were supposed to be happy, to get that thing we want, but things just didn't happen that way. I know you loved Cos, but we loved you too. All this shite about never getting to be happy. What about us? Weren't we enough to make you happy? Just cause you and Cosima were over, it didn't mean we didn't wanna be friends with you anymore. It's not like you ended on bad terms or anything. You were part of our family, Delphine. And then, just like that, you weren't. You didn't return any of my calls. How could you do that to me, Delphine?'

I open my mouth to defend myself, to snap back at her, to ask her how she dares to accuse me like she has. But any words I had planned on spitting out die in my throat, and I swallow them back down, leaving a dryness in my mouth.

And I let the tears fall freely, silently, down my cheeks, not caring enough to make an effort to pull myself together.

Because she's right. Of course she's right. I've been so wrapped up in myself that I never even thought that maybe I owed them an explanation. I thought I was doing the right thing, dropping off the face of the earth like I did, telling myself I didn't give a shit what anyone thought of me after I left. Because I care about how they look at me, I always have. And all this time, this is what Sarah really thought.

And she only ever calls me by my first name when it's serious.

'Shit, Delphine, I didn't mean to start the waterworks'. She rolls her eyes, but comes to sit beside me anyway, jumping up on to the table and draping an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer to her so I lean against her lap.

'I'm sorry', I repeat over and over through my tears. 'I missed you. I missed you all. I haven't been myself since I left. I was my best self when I was with you, and I don't know how to get back to that on my own'.

'Delphine, don't you see? You were always that person, we just brought it out of you. We might have given you the confidence you needed, but we didn't do anything that changed you. It was always you'.

'But you made me a better person. Someone I liked, someone I actually wanted to be, wanted to share with people. But, Sarah, I can't be friends with her if I can't be with her. It's too hard'.

'You don't have to be. I'm sure she feels the same'.

'She doesn't. She doesn't have to worry about that, she's with someone else'.

'She does have to'.

'What do you mean?'

She shakes her head. 'Nothing. Forget I said anything'.

'Do you know something?'

'No, of course not', she snaps defensively, and I flinch at the sound.

Her face softens once she hears the harshness in her own voice, and her eyes betray a silent apology. They flicker over my face now, wide and expectant.

'So, what now?' she asks softly.

'I have no idea. I feel like we have to talk about it, but . . .' I trail off with a sigh.

'That's what normal people would do. But when have you two ever been normal?' She smirks, but there is only truth in her words. 'Do what you think is right. For you, I mean. Do whatever you wanna do. Screw my sister. She left you this morning before you even woke up, she's in no place to say anything'.

'I don't know what I want. I need a few days, I think'.

'Then think about it'.

After a while of silence, Sarah finally starts eating the bacon sandwich in front of her, but I decline the one she gives to me. I think I'll be sick if I eat anything.

I make a lame excuse about having other things to do, and, after trying to convince me to let her take me home, Sarah reluctantly decides to let me go.

'Delphine?' she calls after me as I reach for the door.

'Yes?'

'Call me'.

'I will', I nod, smiling. 'I promise'.

And this time I intend to keep my word.

* * *

Four weeks later, and I'm standing outside a Starbucks a couple of blocks from my apartment, dark eyes behind thick black glasses staring right back at me through the café window. I'm frozen in the middle of the sidewalk, people barging past me, muttering in annoyance as they pass, but I can't move out of the way. I'm stuck in this spot, my feet glued to the concrete, my eyes locked on hers.

Why is it, in a city as big as San Francisco, I keep running into ghosts from the past on every street corner?

She is the one who moves first, and I'm freed from her imprisonment, my eyes moving to the floor, control of my limbs regained. But my gaze returns to the window out of curiosity, only to find her pushing open the glass door and stepping out into the sun. She stops in front of me, leaving a meter of empty space between us, as if she's too afraid to come any closer. But where she stands now the golden rays of light illuminate her, falling into her hair, sparkling in her eyes, her tanned skin glowing. She's like an angel, and I don't step any closer either, for fear of tainting the vision before me.

'Hi', Cosima says softly.

All the words I want to say tangle in my head, a ball of nonsense I can't seem to decipher. And all I can do is say, dumbly, 'what are you doing here?'

'I was hanging out with Beth', she replies simply. 'She lives in this neighbourhood'.

'Oh'.

'Yeah', she responds awkwardly, looking at the ground, kicking an empty coffee cup with her white Converse sneaker.

'I guess you've been speaking to my sister', she says eventually, breaking the silence.

'Yes, I've seen her a couple of times. And we're going out tomorrow'.

She gives a small smile. 'That's nice'.

'Yes', I reply, not knowing what else to say.

'Just don't ever cut her out again'. Her tone isn't harsh, or even warning. But it's light, and genuine, like she's asking me for a favour. 'She needs you. She needs all of us more than she lets on, you know?'

I think I do know, because I think that Sarah and I are very similar, in that way. She loves her friends like they're blood family. She needs them for strength, because she's been through hard times in the past. She needs them to be there, because she relies on them more than they will ever know. I guess I didn't realise it until I came back, because she always seemed so fiercely independent. But she'd die for her friends, and she'd die without them.

I nod in understanding.

'What did she tell you about me?' Cosima asks.

'Nothing'.

'Oh', she says, sounding almost disappointed.

I tilt my head to one side, curious. 'Should she have done?'

'No. I just thought she would have explained why I went off the radar'.

'I think she left that for you to explain for yourself'.

She looks down.

'Why didn't you explain?' I press. 'Why did you just leave without saying anything?'

She shrugs. It's not a gesture of carelessness, of indifference. She just doesn't know how to answer. I can tell from the twisted expression on her lips.

'I wasn't ready to talk', she answers finally.

'Are you ready now?' I ask boldly.

She pauses.

'Yes', she nods, still seeming unconvinced. 'But, first, I think you should know. I called things off with Shay'.

Oh. Now I really don't know what to say. Or maybe I just don't know how to feel. I know the fact that she is romantically uninvolved once again should make me happy, but it doesn't. Not if she's not happy.

Especially when I know it's down to the fact that we slept together. Even though Shay and her weren't exactly official, it still constitutes cheating for Cosima. Or at least, it did when I knew her. She always had very strong opinions on the subject.

'Because of me?' I ask, though I already suspect it's true.

'Yeah'.

'I'm sorry', I say quietly.

'Don't be', she says dismissively.

'But I know you really liked her, and I'm sorry I ruined that'.

'Sure, I liked her', she shrugs. 'But there's something about her I couldn't get past'.

'Like what?'

She looks straight into my eyes now, a newfound confidence lit within them.

'She's not you'.

My breath catches in my throat, and she must sense it, because she laughs, any sign of her own nervousness disappearing in the sound.

'Alcohol always made me spill my feelings, don't you remember? You should have known I meant everything I said to you that night at Alison's'.

She pauses expectantly, but I'm not sure what to say.

'I don't remember most of the night, Cosima', I chuckle.

She laughs too. 'We were pretty wasted, huh'.

'What did you say to me?'

She takes a breath. 'I said, as soon as I saw you, I knew a part of me would always love you, and I was a little scared that I might never love anyone else the same way. I said I didn't think being together could ever be an option, but I'm here, and you're here, and . . . and you told me you loved me'.

'I told you that?' I ask, almost whispering.

'Is it true?'

I almost laugh, but I catch myself before I do. It just seems so ridiculous. Cosima, asking me if I'm love with her.

'Of course it's true', I tell her, tears of raw emotion pooling in my eyes now.

'And you want me?' Her eyes are shining with water too.

'Yes', I gasp tearfully.

'Well', she laughs, wiping a stray tear says with her thumb. 'That's that'.

It's simple, really. After everything, it's simple.

And yet we still don't know what to say to each other. I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear nervously, she looks down and squashes the empty paper cup with her shoe, I fiddle with the buttons on my white shirt.

I don't know what we're supposed to do now. How we're supposed to get back to where we used to be. Maybe we can never get back. We're not teenagers any more. But now the city is our own, and we can make what we want out of it. The question is, how do we begin?

'I was wondering if I could take you for a drink?' Cosima breaks the silence finally, answering my unspoken question.

She smiles hopefully, a flash of white, that beautiful smile I could never forget.

And it is hopeful. I have hope too. Hope that this is the start of something, after a story of so many endings. I think she feels it too.

Because maybe our story never really began, and so it never really ended. Maybe here is where it begins.

'Yes', I nod. 'I'd like that'.


End file.
